Don't Cry. Beverly BartonЧитать онлайн книгу.
little baby, don’t you cry.”
Regina laid the handmade pillow over her son’s nose and mouth. Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes and cascaded down either side of her face. She pressed her hand in the center of the pillow and held it in place until she was certain Cody was at peace. She lifted the pillow, tossed it aside, and looked at her tiny two-year-old son.
No more pain. No more suffering.
Chapter 1
J.D. Cass listened to his breakfast date’s end of the telephone conversation and knew it was bad news. In his profession, bad news was the norm, as it was in Holly’s, so he wasn’t surprised. When a guy was dating an assistant district attorney, even in an on-again/off-again relationship, he became accustomed to their dates being interrupted by business. Of course, it worked both ways. How many times had one of Holly’s meticulously planned romantic evenings ended abruptly when he’d gotten an urgent call?
They hadn’t managed to get together for the past three weeks, and J.D. was way past horny. So, yeah, his invitation for them to share an early breakfast today was his selfish way of wooing her back into his bed, and the sooner the better. Since he and Holly were both early risers, a 6:30 A.M. breakfast date had seemed the perfect chance to see each other and the least likely time that their professional lives would intrude. So much for great ideas.
“My God!” Holly Johnston’s big blue eyes widened and her full lips parted in a silent gasp. “Who found her? Hmm…When? Is the press already there?”
Curious about the identity of the person who had been found and eager to hear the details, J.D. frowned when his own cell phone rang. He checked caller ID and grunted.
He hit the On button. “Cass here. What’s up?”
“They found Jill Scott.” His boss, Special Agent in Charge Phil Hayes, had a deep baritone voice made even rougher and throatier from a lifetime of smoking.
“Alive?”
“No.”
“Where?”
“How close are you to Lookout Valley?”
“Why?” J.D. got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Because we’re fixing to get dragged into this mess, so I want you to head on over to the crime scene pronto.”
“Shit! Why is the TBI getting involved?”
“Because the DA wants us to be on standby. It turns out that there is a second missing woman. Debra Gregory, the mayor’s wife’s cousin, disappeared sometime late last night.”
“Doesn’t the mayor think his own police force can handle the investigation? This isn’t our—”
“His Honor wants to use every resource available to him,” Phil said. “And that includes us, buddy boy. The mayor called the DA and then Everett Harrelson called me personally fifteen minutes ago. Last night, the Chattanooga PD had two missing persons cases. This morning they have a murder case and a suspected kidnapping case. Since both women fit the same profile, there’s a chance the same guy kidnapped Jill and Debra.”
“When I show up at the crime scene, just how official am I?”
“You’re unofficial for the time being. We’ll ease into this gradually. Tell the investigators you’re there in an advisory capacity. Assure them that the TBI isn’t taking over their case.”
“Yeah, sure. Like they’re going to believe that.”
After J.D. returned his phone to the belt holder, he looked across the table at Holly. She slid her phone into an outer pocket on her shoulder bag and shrugged.
“Bad news?” he asked.
She nodded. “What about you?”
“Yeah. That was Phil. They believe they’ve found Jill Scott, the woman who’s been missing for the past two weeks.”
Scott, a local middle school teacher, beloved by students and parents alike, had mysteriously disappeared two weeks earlier. Her parents, her fiancé, and her friends assured police that Jill would never leave without a word to anyone. They were convinced that she’d been abducted. Thanks to local media coverage, there probably wasn’t a man, woman, or child in Hamilton County who didn’t know the teacher’s name.
“It seems our calls were about the same case,” Holly told him. “Of course, I’m not actually involved with the case, not yet, but—”
“But your nephew was in Jill Scott’s seventh-grade class and her murder is semipersonal for you, right?”
Holly nodded. “So, did the TBI get drafted to—?”
“Unofficially at this point,” J.D. said. “But that status can change at any time.” He offered Holly a life-sucks-sometimes frown. “I have to head over to the crime scene.” He stood, pulled out his wallet, and laid down a couple of twenties to pay for their meal, plus a generous tip.
“Mind if I go with you?” she asked.
When he gave her an inquisitive stare, she said, “I’ll stay out of the way. I know that I’m nothing more than a concerned citizen.” She smiled. “Okay, a nosy concerned citizen.”
“And I’m a TBI agent sticking my nose in where I may not be wanted and probably won’t be welcomed.”
Audrey Sherrod swallowed her tears. Although she would never apologize to anyone for her emotional involvement with her clients, she did her best not to let the empathy she experienced override her professionalism. Caring about people was a plus in her business. Allowing her personal feelings to affect a patient’s treatment was unacceptable, so she walked an emotional tightrope, balancing the two sides of her personality.
Mary Nell Scott’s daughter Jill had been missing for fifteen days. The Scott family was surviving on hopes and prayers. Mary Nell’s husband had turned to their parish priest for solace and advice. Jill’s sister, Mindy, relied on her best friends for comfort. Mary Nell had chosen to seek the help of a mental health therapist. She had chosen Audrey because several years ago, she had been one of Audrey’s first clients. At that time, Mary Nell had been dealing with her husband’s infidelity. After months of counseling, she had come to terms with what had happened and realized she wanted to save her marriage.
“I can’t bear to hear Father Raymond’s voice,” Mary Nell had confessed when she had first arrived at Audrey’s office today. “I know the man means well, but my faith isn’t strong enough to simply leave everything in God’s hands.”
Mary Nell had been raised Presbyterian and converted to Catholicism when she had married Charles Scott. She had brought up both of their daughters in the Catholic faith, but she seldom attended mass and readily admitted that she had doubts about God’s existence.
When the one-hour session ended, Mary Nell sat there calmly, with her head bowed and her folded hands resting in her lap. Audrey got up and retrieved a bottle of water from the mini-fridge in her office.
She truly understood the hell Mary Nell and her family were living in right now. Not knowing what had happened to a loved one was heartbreakingly unbearable. And yet they had to bear it. They had no other choice.
But that’s not true. Mary Nell does have one other choice. A selfish, unthinkable choice.
Audrey pushed aside the memories from her own past about the choice her stepmother had made when she had found life unbearable. A choice that had destroyed a family already in crisis.
“I don’t have another client until regular office hours at nine this morning, so if you’d like to stay longer, you may.” Audrey handed Mary Nell the bottled water. She had come in early to see Mary Nell, who had left her a frantic phone message at five o’clock that morning.
“No, no.” Mary Nell shook her head. “I’m meeting Charlie at seven-thirty